


Asgard

by pointbreakodinson



Series: Yggdrasil [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Marvel Norse Lore, References to Norse Religion & Lore, historical fiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 08:54:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17546555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pointbreakodinson/pseuds/pointbreakodinson





	Asgard

Thor could admit that Asgard was beautiful.

The buildings shined like gold and the plants were colorful and flourishing. From his palace, he could see the Bifrost reach into the distance as he traced the mountains on the horizon. There were many things to admire about Asgard. But recently, he felt like something was missing.

He tried to ignore it at first, but that didn’t last long. He couldn’t get so worked up over a mortal woman. But every time he closed his eyes, he saw your face. He heard your voice when no one else was around. He wanted nothing more than to shirk all his royal duties and travel to Midgard to be with you.

But he owed his people more than that.

He knew that the lives of mortals weren’t nearly as long as Asgardians, let alone a god. He reminded himself that while it may have felt like a long time for him, it was monumentally longer for you.

So, with the help of Heimdall, he sent a storm to Midgard every year for three years on your birthday, chock full of thunder and lightning. If nothing else, Thor hoped it would let you know that he hasn’t forgotten you and that he was coming back.

Loki was the first to notice Thor’s standoffishness. He knew it had to be a Midgardian. When Thor had returned that fateful day three years ago, he was far too happy, which Loki immediately deduced to be a woman’s doing. He walked past a lovestruck Thor, a peculiar smell on him. It smelled like some kind of tree, but none that Loki could immediately recognize. Then he realized, just as he was walking through the garden, that it was, in fact, a tree — just one native to Midgard.

And upon that realization, he pocketed the new intel for later use.

Then, one night, they joined their parents at the dinner table, the first family dinner they’d had in years. It was painfully quiet, an accurate reflection of the family dynamic. Poor Frigga was the only one trying to keep the conversation afloat.

“So, Loki,” She started. “Your father tells me you are finally ready to be wed?”

Loki all but glared at Odin but gave his mother a small smile, “Yes.”

“I think that’s wonderful. I’ve been keeping my eye on potential wives, and I think I have the perfect girl.”

“Loki has already chosen a wife,” Odin stated loudly. “Go on, tell her.”

Thor toyed with his food, opting to keep his mouth shut as an inevitable argument ensued. Loki sat up straight and looked Frigga in the eye. “Angrboda.” He said.

Frigga paused. “Angrboda? The giantess?”

Loki’s eyes held a glimmer of vulnerability as he stared at the table. “Are you disappointed?”

“Well,” She sighed but reached over to place her hand over his cold one. “If that’s who you love, Loki—“

“You have got to be joking, Frigga!” Odin all but shouted.

Odin, Loki, and Frigga went back and forth over and over as Thor picked at his food once more. His mind had wandered elsewhere, planning for your birthday once more. He had cleared his entire schedule for the next few days so as to spend as much time with you as possible. A small smile slipped onto his lips as he thought of you and of how surprised you’d be to see him.

He was suddenly pulled out of his train of thought when he heard Frigga calling his name. He cleared his throat, “Yes, mother?”

Loki rolled his eyes. “She asked what you make of this situation, my marriage.”

Thor’s brow raised as he sat forward in his chair. He felt a wave of guilt pass through him as he spoke to his brother, but did so anyway with a sigh. “The decision is yours, but I think this marriage is a bad idea—“

“I should’ve known.” Loki scoffed.

“You are not a good match,” Thor explained. “I simply think you should reconsider. What about Sigyn?”

“What about her?” Loki asked quietly. Thor knew that Loki and Sigyn had a history; they were perfect for each other.

“Well, you love her, don’t you?”

“She doesn’t understand me.”

“Loki, she’s the only one who understands you. You just aren’t fond of the idea of someone knowing you better than yourself.” Thor returned with a roll of his eyes. “Angrboda will use you.”

“You’re one to talk.” Loki snapped.

“And what does that mean?”

“You think I don’t know about your Midgardian woman?”

Suddenly, Loki had Thor’s full attention. Thor’s eyes had a dangerously protective look in them, glaring at his brother with the intensity of one hundred suns. “It was never a secret.”

“Right. Which is why you never told mother or father, correct?”

“Thor.” His mother called. “What is Loki talking about?”

“Nothing of importance,” Thor grumbled.

“If you are traipsing around with some Midgardian, it is important.” His father said.

“It was one night.”

Loki scoffed, “And you speak so lowly of Angrboda. All the humans do is use you, and she will do the same.”

Thor’s fork clattered against the table as he pointed an angry finger at Loki. “Choose your words wisely, brother.”

“It is in their nature. You will see when she’s finished with you. She is a power-hungry whore, just like the rest of them.”

Thor stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor loudly. He couldn’t hear his parents’ protests over the blood pounding in his ears. An angry heat was running through his veins as he was tempted to leap across the table and attack his very own brother, thinking of all the ways he could make Loki regret his tasteless words. Even so, it was all brought to a crashing halt as Heimdall walked into the dining hall.

“Perfect timing.” Odin cleared his throat, eyeing his children. “What is it, Heimdall?”

“Urgent news, my lord, for Prince Thor.” He responded.

Thor’s eyes stayed glued to his brother in a glare as he grunted in acknowledgment. Heimdall raised a brow but continued anyway. “I see chaos among the cosmos.”

“Chaos is vague, Heimdall,” Thor said.

“Trouble. In Midgard.”

Thor tore his eyes from Loki, a sudden intense feeling of panic rushing to his chest. Heimdall could see the worry in his eyes as he asked where. When Heimdall didn’t respond, only giving him a knowing look, Thor stepped away from the table. “I’ll be back soon.” He said to his family.

“Off to see your woman, are you?” Loki commented, the words slipping from lips like venom from the fangs of a snake.

Thor wasted no time turning on his heel and marching around the table to his brother, snatching him up by his tunic. Frigga protested, but Thor paid no attention. “Marry Angrboda or don’t. You are not a child, and we cannot tell you what to do. But mention the Midgardian again, and I will take you so far down in the depths of Hel that you will forget any other realm exists.”

And just like that, Thor was gone.

——

The second time you saw him, you were prepared.

You’d accumulated quite a bit of men’s clothing in the last year. Shirts, pants, boots. You figured that Thor would have to blend in when he returned. Whenever that was.

Part of you lost hope for his return a long time ago. Yet, your body still carried you outside every time it rained and every time thunder and lightning danced across the sky. You still stood out in the cold and watched sometimes, waiting for him to fall out of the sky to you.

The other part of you held onto hope like your life depended on it. It may have sounded crazy, but you’d taken note that for the past three years, thunder roared and rain pounded the ground on your birthday. That had to be a sign that he was still looking after you, right? However, no matter how much it rained, day after day and year after year, he didn’t show.

You knew you couldn’t blame him for it. For someone nearing one thousand years old, three years was like a second to him. And after all, he was a prince with an entire kingdom to look over and defend. There was no way he would put you, a mere mortal, a woman he’d met one night three years ago, ahead of his people or his birthright.

So needless to say, you were put at ease when you saw him again.

Your village was in the middle of a battle with a man who claimed to be King of Norway. He wanted to take control of your village and all your neighbors, so he attacked one rainy evening. He waited until everything had settled down in the square and the last child had been tucked into bed, then ordered his men to sneak in and kill anyone who resisted.

They’d tiptoed right into the back door of your house, the creak waking you almost instantly. You stood up, your nightgown flowing over your legs as you grabbed the nearest thing to you, a wooden bucket that had been collecting rainwater that fell through a crack in your roof. You quietly poured the water out and pressed your back against the wall as the footsteps stopped at your bedroom door.

Just as the door opened, you reared back and swung the bucket into the man’s head. Just as the wood connected with his skull, you heard a crack of thunder in the sky underneath the screams coming from the village. You swung again, aiming for the other man, but he stopped the bucket just before you could hit him. Suddenly, his arm raised and a heavy palm came across your cheek, knocking you to the ground with a scream. The men laughed and picked you up off the ground as they taunted you and your anger.

They dragged you out of your house and called for their leader. You could see the chaos as you neared the square, men from your village fighting back valiantly. They took you into the Great Hall while you kicked and screamed for them to let you go. Their so-called king was sitting on the throne your village’s leader used to occupy. His head tilted as he examined one of your village’s women, Alfhild. His brown hair was in a long, thick braid that fell down his back, his eyes dark and power-hungry.

Alfhild’s head turned as she rejected his advances, but her eyes widened when she saw you. “Let her go!”

“Alfhild, no.” You told her.

“Do you know who you’re speaking to, woman?” The king asked her, his voice thick with the accent of a village further south.

“You cannot harm her! She is a priestess!”

The king’s eyes snapped toward you as Alfhild was taken away. They narrowed as he looked you over, but he eventually smirked and leaned back in the throne. “Well, we wouldn’t want the gods to be angry with us, would we? Let her go.”

You snatched your arms away from the two men as you straightened your dress out. Your head was held high as you spoke plainly, “The gods are already angry with you.”

“Are they?” He laughed. He shrugged as he gestured to the hall surrounding you both. “If they are so angry, why would they allow me to be King of all Norway?”

“The gods would not appreciate your arrogance. And they will make you regret it.”

Just then, a loud boom of thunder was heard outside, catching everyone’s attention as the lightning followed quickly. Suddenly, the screams and fighting outside ceased almost in an instant. You smiled to yourself as a familiar presence washed over you. The king looked at you suspiciously, “What was that?”

You shrugged, “The gods.”

Suddenly, the doors to the Great Hall flew open and banged against the wall as rain continued to pour outside. You didn’t have to turn around to know who was there, but his voice was music to your ears. “You have two choices.”

The king stood with his ax in hand, his men following his lead. “Who are you?”

“You can leave this woman, this village, and this land. Take your pillaging elsewhere.” You heard his footsteps nearing you as he spoke with such confidence. “Or I can kill you where you stand. Your choice.”

The silence was deafening as you watched the king contemplate his choice, his hand with the ax twitching. The smell of blood was starting to drift inside as the cool winds carried it into your nose. You still hadn’t seen him, but you could feel his body heat behind you. Then, in less than a second, the king had thrown his ax right at you. You felt a hand lightly push you out of the way, and you finally turned to look at him.

Thor hadn’t aged a day since you last saw him. His blonde hair was drenched from the rain, and a bit of it was stained red, probably from fighting the king’s men outside. His beard looked as if it had just been trimmed, the dark hair much scruffier than last time. He had opted for more traditional Viking clothing, chain mail over a brown shirt and a simple pair of pants and boots.

You watched his expression change to disappointment as Thor almost too easily caught the ax in his hand. “Wrong choice, your highness.”

Just as quickly, Thor threw the ax back at the king, and it buried itself in his chest as he fell to his death. It only took a few more seconds for the rest of your village’s men to take out what remained of the king’s men. Cheers erupted in the Great Hall as Thor finally turned to look at you.

His eyes full of worry and anger, he finally reached out to you, his large hand cupping the back of your neck and pulling you into his chest. You wrapped your arms around him as he pressed a kiss to your wet hair. “Are you alright?” He asked, his voice low and gruff.

“I’m fine.” You assured him. “How did you—”

“Heimdall.” He breathed. “He said he felt ‘trouble in the cosmos’ or something similar.”

You chuckled as you pulled away to look into his warm, blue eyes. “And you assumed it was me?”

“I had to be sure.” He finally let himself relax, a sweet and endearing smile gracing his lips.

“Thank you.”

Instead of answering that you never had to thank him, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. They were just as soft as you remembered as his palm cupped your cheek. The kiss was full pent-up emotions, nowhere near as innocent as your first. Your tongues danced around each other, and your small moan was heard only by Thor as the celebrating had become much too loud. You pulled away to catch your breath, leaning your forehead against his. “That was the longest three years of my life.” He admitted with a breathless laugh.

You laughed along with him and pulled your body away from his. Taking his hand in yours, you maneuvered through the crowd and out of the Great Hall. When you finally made it outside, you noticed that the clouds were beginning to part, and the sun shined down on your village. You turned to Thor, you smiled brightly, “Did you do that?”

“It’s possible.” He shrugged, a knowing grin on his face.

You both walked hand in hand back to your home, enjoying the sun and warmth. “Can I ask you a question?” You asked.

He sucked in a breath as his eyes squinted at the sunlight, “Is it about why it took three years for my return?”

“It’s possible.” You parroted his words as you bumped his shoulder with your own. “I am not upset. You are a prince, and you have many things to do. Just curious.”

“Well, it was not for my lack of thinking of you.” He told you, stopping your trek for a moment to you look into your eyes. “I thought about you all the time. Every day for three years, you were the first thought on my mind.”

He kissed you once more, much softer this time. When you pulled away, you smiled up at him knowingly. “That doesn’t answer my question, Prince.”

Thor made a playful noise of bashfulness as he turned his head away from you, making you laugh. He tugged you along, and you both started walking again. “Trouble with my brother again.”

“What has Loki done now?”

“He’s trying to marry Angrboda.”

“The giantess?” You asked incredulously.

He nodded, “Nothing good could come of that union, but he claims it fate.”

“Perhaps you could set him up with that Sigyn woman you told me about last time.”

He stopped you just outside the door to your cottage, smiling down fondly at you. He shook his head, “I truly cannot believe you remember that.”

“I thought of you every day, too.” You shrugged, making his smile widen. You reached for the door, “I don’t how long you are staying, but I figured we could—”

“Actually, I want to take you somewhere.”

Your eyes lit up with excitement, making him chuckle. “Where are we going?”

“You must wait.”

You let out a playful whine from the back of your throat as he led you out into the field outside the village. When you were far enough from the village, Thor stopped you and looked down into your eyes. “Wrap your arms around my waist and hold on.”

You scrunched your brow together in confusion but did so anyway. You watched as he whispered something unintelligible.

That’s when the journey began.

You felt yourself being pulled away from the ground, and, consequently, you held onto Thor tighter. You felt a chuckle vibrate through his chest as you looked all around you. The night was suddenly all around you, a sort of rainbow of energy surrounding and carrying you. Everything flew by so fast, you had no time to marvel at the sights before you.

Then, your feet returned to the ground.

“You can let go if you wish.” His amused voice reverberated against the walls of a room you didn’t recognize.

Looking up, your eyes caught a pair of golden ones. You weren’t sure how to explain what you were feeling; like you were surprised even though Thor had told you about this place in detail. Yet, you were scrambling for words as you came face to face with Heimdall.

“Hello Y/N.” He said, his voice deep but friendly.

“You know my name?” You said. You shook your head as he let out a short laugh, “Of course you know my name. You are Heimdall.”

He smiled knowingly at Thor before looking back down at you, “Welcome to Asgard, my lady.”

You felt Thor’s large hands on your shoulders, turning you in your place to finally look over his home. Amazed wouldn’t be enough to describe how you felt. You’d heard stories about its beauty from the moment of your birth. You knew that the buildings shined and glittered as they reflected off one another. You’d heard endlessly about how beautiful the Bifrost was. The sights, the smells, the aura, you knew them like the back of your hand. But no word, no story would ever do Asgard justice.

It all happened so fast after that.

After you’d gotten cleaned up in Thor’s room, scrubbing off the dirt and grime of the previous attack and slipping on a dress he’d left for you, he wanted to show you around, but it all hit you at once. You were finally reunited with him after three long years. You’d missed his eyes, his smile, his scent. That peculiar yet wonderful scent that you just then realized had to be native to Asgard. You’d longed for his touch for three years, and you’d be damned if you weren’t going to have it.

It took little to no convincing on your part. Thor was just as willing. He tried to protest only once before you stepped just a little too close, your smell just a bit too intoxicating. His mission was lost then and there. A growl was ripped from the back of his throat, and you giggled as he picked you up effortlessly, gripping the back of your thighs tightly.

His lips pressed to yours in a heated frenzy. You mewled as he pulled away and pressed wet kisses down the column of your throat. You could hear him murmuring praises to you. How beautiful you were, how much he’d thought about this. You smiled brightly as you looked down at him, and he did the same.

Encouraged by your squirming, he rubbed his cheek against the soft skin of your stomach. He chuckled as you whispered that his scruff tickled before continuing on his way. Before he could get to where you needed him most, you pulled him back up.

He looked into your eyes, afraid he’d done something wrong but was met only with desperation. Just like the first time you met, nothing had to be said. He just knew. He knew that as much as you wanted to be showered with praise and pleasure as he took his time exploring your body, you needed him.

Thor pecked your cheek and nodded, assuring he’d give you what you needed.

He was sure you could be heard from the hallway. He knew that Loki could hear you. That Odin could hear you. Yet, as your bodies pressed together and sweat dripped onto the sheets, his and your words a perfect combination of endearing love and utter filth, he could not have cared less.

He didn’t care that he was Asgardian or that you were Midgardian. He didn’t care that his father wouldn’t approve. He didn’t care that his brother would loathe you at first sight. And he absolutely didn’t care that, by definition, you two did not belong together.

If you didn’t belong together, your bodies wouldn’t fit as perfectly as they did. He wouldn’t be able to pull gasps from deep within your chest and whimpers from your throat, a feat no man had ever accomplished. You wouldn’t knock the breath out of his lungs with just a hooded glance. You wouldn’t be able to bring each other to the edge of bliss and topple over together as hard as you did while he held you close.

If it wasn’t meant to be, it wouldn’t have felt so right.

When you woke hours later, you realized you’d been cleaned and tucked into soft, clean sheets. It was dark out now, but Asgard still provided some light through the window.

You lifted to your head to look at Thor, all too aware of his arms heavy and comforting around your waist. He looked so peaceful, his hair splayed across the pillow like a halo. Soft snores vibrated through his chest as he slept. You moved a stray piece of hair from his eyes, and he squirmed just a bit. His nose scrunched, and his arm tightened around you, pulling you closer to his chest.

You then looked past him to the window, noting that despite all the differences, the night sky seemed to remain the same.

You slowly pulled away from the Asgardian next to you, careful not to disturb his slumber. You picked up the dress from the floor and slipped it over your bare body before moving to sit on the windowsill.

Looking over Asgard, you let out a content sigh. Never in all your dreams could you have imagined the beauty of Thor’s home. It was truly magnificent, ethereal even. Part of you couldn’t believe that you were really there. Maybe you were dreaming.

Then, a deep voice grounded you. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

You turned to at Thor, your heart warming at the sight. He’d sat up against the headboard, the blanket just covering his manhood as one leg hung out from under it. “It is.” You nodded with a smile on your lips. “Thank you for bringing me.”

“My love, you needn’t thank me for anything.”

“I shall thank you anyway.”

He chuckled and reached a hand out to you, “Come back to bed.”

“But—“

“Asgard will still be here when the sun rises.”

You smiled bashfully and stood from the windowsill, softly padding to the bed. You took his hand as you kneeled on the bed, and he pulled you onto his lap, a boyish grin on his lips. You leaned down to kiss him, but he stopped you.

“Wait.” He said. Gripping the bottom of your dress, he pulled it off and dramatically threw it aside, making you laugh giddily. He pulled you closer still until your chests were pressed together, the playful grin back on his face. “Much better.”

It was safe to say that you did not go back to sleep.


End file.
